Her smile is slow, satisfied, but not triumphant. "It's a start," she says softly.
Chapter 6 – Sage
Silas stands by the fireplace, firelight playing across the planes of his face, his expression caught between desire and restraint. I remain on the couch, blanket still wrapped around my shoulders, heart pounding against my ribs.
I've never wanted anyone the way I want him right now.
"Come here," I say softly, letting the blanket slip from my shoulders.
He doesn't move. "Sage—"
"Please." I hold his gaze steadily. "We've said everything that needs saying. Now I want you to come here."
He moves toward me slowly, each step deliberate. When he reaches the couch, he doesn't sit. Instead, he stands before me, looking down with an intensity that makes my skin flush.
"Are you sure?" he asks, voice low and rough.
I rise to meet him, closing the last distance between us. "Yes."
My hands find his chest first, feeling the solid warmth through his shirt. His breath catches slightly at the contact. Then I lean up and press my mouth to his.
The kiss begins tentative, a question asked with lips and breath. His restraint is palpable, held tight in the tension of his jaw, the way he allows the contact without deepening it. Testing me, perhaps. Or himself.
I press closer, sliding one hand up to his neck, feeling his pulse hammer beneath my fingertips. His control breaks in a single, fluid motion. His arms wrap around me, one hand cradling theback of my head, the other pressed to my lower back, drawing me against him.
His hands are large, warm, one moving up to tangle in my hair, the other tracing the curve of my spine through my sweater. Every point of contact burns.
When we finally part, both breathing hard, his eyes have darkened to midnight. His thumb traces my lower lip, damp from his kiss.
"We should slow down," he says, but his hand stays at my waist, holding me close.
"We've been slow," I counter, letting my fingers drift to the buttons of his shirt. "For hours."
His hand covers mine, not stopping, just slowing the movement. "You haven't done this before."
"All the more reason not to waste time."
A hint of smile touches his lips, quickly replaced by something more serious. "It matters to me that it's good for you. That means not rushing."
I nod, allowing him to set the pace. He leads me back to the couch, sitting and drawing me down beside him. Not touching yet, just close enough to feel the heat radiating between us.
"May I?" he asks, fingers brushing the hem of my sweater.
I nod, lifting my arms as he draws the fabric up and over my head. The cabin air is cool against my skin, raising goosebumps along my arms.
He allows me to unbutton his shirt, my fingers fumbling slightly with unfamiliar movement. When I push it from his shoulders, I'm greeted by the sight of tanned skin stretched over muscle.
I place my palm flat against his chest, feeling the steady thud of his heart. The hair there is peppered with gray, softer than I expected. I let my hand drift lower, tracing the firm plane of his stomach, feeling the muscles tense beneath my touch.
"Come here," he says, voice rough, and pulls me onto his lap.
The new position brings us face to face, my knees on either side of his thighs. His hands settle at my waist, steadying me.
I lean forward to kiss him again, and this time there's no hesitation. His mouth meets mine with hunger, his hands sliding up my back to tangle in my hair. The kiss deepens, tongues meeting, teeth grazing my lower lip in a way that sends electricity down my spine.
He unhooks my bra with practiced ease, drawing the straps down my arms and tossing it aside. The cool air makes my nipples tighten, but then his hands are there, warm and slightly rough, cupping the weight of my breasts.
I gasp at the sensation, arching into his touch. His mouth leaves mine to trail down my neck, leaving a path of heat in its wake. When his lips close around one nipple, I cry out softly, fingers digging into his shoulders.
